


Gregs and raves

by Storybelle



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: Cheerleaders are Nick's kink, Episode: s10e16 The Panty Sniffer, Established Relationship, M/M, Nick and Greg are long time lovers, Smut, THE LOVE, episode fic, season 10
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:34:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29559870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Storybelle/pseuds/Storybelle
Summary: Nick’s already home. His panty murder was solved before Greg even set foot in the warehouse, so for once the older man was home on time. Normally, Greg would be happy about that. This time, he just wonders if he can sneak upstairs before Nick catches him. He never got time to change and Nick has never seen him like this.“What are you wearing?” Nick asks in amusement, blinking up at his boyfriend from their kitchen island.Post episode fic, because the possibilities for The Love are endless.
Relationships: Greg Sanders/Nick Stokes
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12





	Gregs and raves

They’d nearly lost Catherine.

She’d done a good job of hiding the tremor in her fingers, the slightly wild look in her eye. But not good enough. If Vartann had been less of a shot, Catherine would be little more than a smear on the hotel carpet, the next body that they had to process.

Maybe if Greg had managed to keep an eye on the suspect, she never would have been in that position in the first place. But he’d been so preoccupied with Everett trying to leave the rave that he’d completely forgotten about Bell. It’s probably a good thing he’s not a cop. 

It’s late by the time he gets home and his stupid clothes are sitting like a badly-fitting second skin. He can’t believe that he used to wear stuff like this for hours at a time, dancing in darkly lit raves and grinding against the nearest warm body. Thank God he doesn’t do that anymore. For a while it had been fun, a release from the pressures of his job. And sometimes he’d done more than grind and that had been good too. Having someone - anyone - to hold was a good way to forget that he couldn’t hold the one he really wanted. 

He’d given up the raves and the parties and the bad clothes when he became a CSI. He’d almost forgotten about it right up until Brass had mentioned the surge being held at an old warehouse. Maybe it would have been better to keep his mouth shut. An actual cop undercover would have known what to do when their suspects separated. Bell never would have made it back to that hotel room to threaten Catherine. 

He parks the car outside of their house and steps out into the morning sun. It always feels a little strange, even after all this time, to arrive home when everyone else is getting ready for the day. Sometimes it does make him feel a bit disconnected from the rest of the world. It’s just the price that they pay for the jobs they love.

Nick’s already home. His panty murder was solved before Greg even set foot in the warehouse, so for once the older man was home on time. Normally, Greg would be happy about that. This time, he just wonders if he can sneak upstairs before Nick catches him. He never got time to change and Nick has never seen him like this.

“What are you wearing?” Nick asks in amusement, blinking up at his boyfriend from their kitchen island.

“Long story,” Greg says wearily. “Is that coffee?” Nick grabs a clean mug and begins to pour, while Greg collapses into one of the stools. They hadn’t needed to decorate much when they moved in, which they were both grateful for. Neither of them had time for huge home renovation projects. They’d made it their own slowly - new towel rails, crisp blue bathroom tiles, the windowsill full of Nick’s plants.

“You know,” Nick says casually, as Greg takes the cup and begins to inhale it’s contents. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a baseball cap before.”

“Don’t get used to it,” Greg says, as Nick sits back down again. They’re not even really touching but the soft rub of Nick’s thigh against his is enough to calm his racing heart. “This is all going back in the wardrobe.” This, of course, is the wrong thing to say. Nick gives a snort of surprise into his coffee mug.

“You mean, these are yours?” Nick asks, with an expression of badly repressed glee, and Greg groans. He tugs off the cap and drops it onto the counter.

“More coffee,” he demands, extending his arm and waits until Nick refills his cup before he’ll speak. They only have good coffee at home; it was a rule that Greg had put his foot down for when they’d moved in together.

“Yeah, they’re mine,” Greg confesses. “The suspects were taking their product to a rave and when I said I’d been to that particular location before, Brass recruited me to go in.” Nick’s smile slides off his face.

“Sorry, Brass sent you undercover?” Nick says, forehead creased with concern. “Unarmed, into a crowded place to watch two very dangerous criminals?”

“It’s not a big deal,” Greg says, already regretting telling Nick anything. He should have changed at work. Since the beating, Nick does not take Greg going into dangerous situations at all well. Despite the fact that Greg is a grown man, a CSI level 3 and also a damn good shot. But Greg gets it. They’ve had too many close calls and if Greg had ever had to take samples of Nick’s blood from the pavement, he’d probably feel the same way.

“It’s a pretty big deal,” Nick insists, jaw clenched in a way that lets Greg know how pissed off his boyfriend really is. “You’re a CSI, Greg! That’s not your job!”

“I’ve been to raves before,” Greg says, draining the last of his coffee. Not that it’s doing him much good, as he still wants to take off his clothes and fall into bed. He’s getting too old. He’d felt it at the rave, unable to shake the jittery feeling of not belonging. “Brass figured I’d fit in a lot better than some cop who doesn’t know the lifestyle.”

“That’s probably true,” Nick says, begrudgingly. “But I hate him sending you to some place you shouldn’t be. Your job was going in with Archie and setting up the cameras. Those guys are nuts, Greg. You could have been really hurt.”

“They were nuts,” Greg says, flatly. He rises and dumps his coffee mug in the sink. He’ll deal with washing up later. Right now, he needs some sleep to take off the edge of his adrenaline and guilt. “One suspect in custody, one on his way to the morgue.” He deliberately doesn’t look back. If he looks at anything other than the coffee dregs spiraling down the drain, he’ll lose it. But it doesn’t matter. It only takes a few seconds for him to feel Nick at his back, broad chest pressed flush against his own body.

“You’re okay?” Nick asks, breath warm on Greg’s ear. Greg lets his head fall back against Nick with a sigh, letting go of the tension he’s been carrying since he heard the police scanner informing them of Bell’s death. “You’re not hurt?” 

“I’m not hurt,” Greg confirms, placing his own hand over Nick’s. His lover is warm and smells faintly of lemons. Nick’s been home long enough to shower and change into comfy clothes. Greg doesn’t want to think about the sweat and cigarette-stench that he might smell of. No matter what, it’s hard to go into a tightly packed place without coming out stinking of human sweat. “But one suspect got away from us and went back to the hotel room. While Catherine and Vartann were still there.” Nick sharply sucks in a breath.

“Are they both okay?” he asks. Greg suddenly can’t take it anymore and twists in Nick’s arms. Nick lets him and, when Greg rests his head in the crook of his boyfriend’s neck, lifts up a hand to gently stroke the blonde curls at the base of his neck. Greg breathes in deeply, letting the smell of Nick’s skin wash away the churning in his gut. After Warrick, close calls got even harder to bear. They all know now what having a permanent hole in their lives feels like.

“Mostly,” he murmurs. “Bell pulled a gun on Catherine. They were wrestling and he was this close to overpowering her. He nearly shot her in the face, Nick!” His voice cracks and Nick immediately pulls him in tighter, pressing soft kisses to the bits of Greg that he can reach. Greg tries to focus on the touches to his cheek, his neck, his shoulder. He’s home with Nick, and everyone he loves is safe. It’s all okay.

“Sssh, baby,” Nick says soothingly. “Sssh, it’s okay. Cath’s alright.”

“She nearly wasn’t!” Greg bursts out, pulling out of Nick’s embrace slightly, enough to look his boyfriend in the eye. “It’s my fault, Nick! I should have watched the guy but I was preoccupied with Everett. You’re right and I shouldn’t have been there, I’m not trained for that stuff. Catherine nearly got killed and I…” Greg is cut off by Nick’s mouth on his, the older CSI pulling him into a deep, loving kiss. Greg swallows his panic and lets himself fall into it.

“But she didn’t,” Nick says, when they separate and Greg finds it hard to focus on the words coming out of Nick’s red mouth. “It’s not your fault, Greg. Stop thinking that it is.”

“I think it is,” Greg sighs miserably and reaches for Nick’s mouth again before Nick can argue with him. Nick’s mouth is hot and tastes of coffee and when he slides a hand under the stupid bomber jacket, Greg can’t help but feel his body wake up and take notice. Funny how this man can do what two cups of coffee can’t.

“Maybe we should get you out of these clothes,” Nick says, voice low, and Greg can’t help but agree. 

“You hate them, don’t you,” Greg says, tugging at the striped scarf that’s wrapped around his neck. Nick smirks.

“It’s an interesting look,” he says, leading Greg by the hand over to the stairs. “How come you still have some of that stuff?”

“I never got rid of it. Some of it anyway. I just put it in a box when I did my proficiency and kind of forgot about it.”

“Did you go to raves a lot?” Nick asks curiously, when they arrive at their bedroom door. Greg lets go of Nick’s hand when they step inside, so that he can start to pull off the jacket that’s smothering him.

“I did. Back when I was a lab rat,” Greg says, dumping the jacket to the floor. He doesn't get much further as Nick crowds him backwards, urging him towards the bed.

“I’m not stripped yet,” Greg reminds him and Nick gives him a filthy smirk.

“I’ll do that for you,” he says, in a low voice, just as the back of Greg’s knees hit the bed. Only Nick’s hands in his belt loops prevent Greg from falling. He’d be lying if he said Nick hauling him around the bed with ease wasn’t a turn on.

“Are you sure you don’t like these clothes?” Greg wonders aloud because Nick’s eyes have gone all dark and hungry.

“I’m trying to get you out of them,” Nick reminds him, unwinding the scarf from his neck with one hand. “Definitely not. Although, I saw something today I’d like to put you in.”

“Something you...wait, at the weird panty show?” Greg yelps, as he remembers exactly what Nick’s been up to today. Once upon a time, a lingerie show would have been Greg’s scene. Or it would have been, until the true nature of the event came out. Pretty girls in undies, good. Vacuum-packed used panties, bad.

“Just saw something that reminded me of a kink I have,” Nick hums, pressing his mouth to Greg’s neck. Any further objections that Greg may have had vanish in a moan as Nick’s teeth scrape his skin. He’s occupied enough that he barely notices Nick tugging his t-shirt off.

“How come you stopped going?” Nick pulls away for long enough to ask. Clearly, they’re not done with the rehashing of Greg’s wilder activities from his youth. Greg shrugs, half halfheartedly, more interested in the way Nick’s hands are running over his chest. He’s happy enough to leave that life behind; he has everything he’s ever wanted right here.

“I wanted to leave the lab,” he says, simply. “I didn’t think anyone would take me seriously if I was still into the whole body glitter and wild parties thing.”

“The glitter did make it a bit difficult,” Nick grins and then stops when he sees Greg flinch. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Greg says weakly, only to buckle when Nick gives him a look. “It’s just...I know you guys didn’t take me seriously. I was a lab rat and I played loud music and put on showgirl headdresses. I wasn’t anyone you noticed.”

“I noticed you,” Nick says quietly, reaching up to cup Greg’s cheek. “Don’t ever think that I didn’t notice you.”

“I wanted more than anything for you to notice me,” Greg whispers, sliding his hands under Nick’s shirt. Sometimes he lies awake and watches Nick sleep, remembering how hard it was when Nick was just the impossible crush. Nick was simultaneously everything he wanted to be and everything he wanted. At times, he wasn’t sure whether he loved or hated Nick.

Greg is pushed back gently onto the bed until he’s lying down, legs dangling over the edge. He lies there, half naked, as Nick’s hands carefully work at his belt buckle and then the jean buttons until he’s free and Nick can slide his jeans right off.

“Much better,” Nick says admiringly, eyes roaming over Greg in only his boxers. Greg gives a huff of laughter.

“If you don’t do something quickly, I’m going to fall asleep right here,” he warns and is rewarded with Nick getting down onto his knees. He’ll never get tired of the sight, this gorgeous incredible man kneeling between his legs, intent on making him come undone.

“Patience,” Nick whispers, pressing his mouth to the inside of Greg’s thigh. Greg shivers at the butterfly kiss and moans softly as Nick kisses up and up, until he reaches material.

“Are you planning on blowing me through my boxers?” Greg asks in amusement. “Or is this a hangover from all the underwear fetish you’ve been submitted to today?” Nick grins and skates his fingers lightly over Greg’s clothed erection. It takes all Greg has to not arch shamelessly up into the touch. At last from Nick’s position he’s not going to notice if Greg’s eyes flutter shut.

“Are you saying you wouldn’t wear panties?” Nick asks, climbing up to lick Greg’s stomach. Greg gives another full body tremor as Nick’s hot tongue swipes over his hip bone. 

“I have worn panties before,” Greg says, as Nick freezes just inches away from his dick. He’d be annoyed if he weren’t so intent on teasing Nick. He’s smart enough to put the pieces together, he knows what Nick wants. What he won’t outright ask for. “I’m not against wearing some again, if you had a particular pair in mind,” he says, gently, taking pity. Nick looks up to meet Greg’s eyes and Greg is gratified to see only want, not shame. A few years ago, Nick would never have admitted to something like this. They’ve rubbed off on each other in the best ways.

“I might do,” Nick confesses, playing with the waistband of Greg’s boxers. His lover is somehow still completely clothed, much to Greg's chagrin. “There was this girl in a cheerleading get up. I couldn’t get the thought of you in that outfit out of my mind.” Greg rolls his eyes. He could have placed bets on this. Nick has never managed to resist something pretty and doe eyed in a cheer skirt. Luckily, he’s alright with that someone being him.

“You haven’t changed much from that football playing jock, have you, Nicky?” he teases, tucking his arms behind his head so he can fully enjoy the view of Nick, blushing and inches away from his crotch. 

“I think this is a little different from back then,” Nick muses, flicking his eyes down and then back up with a wide grin.

“You mean you didn’t suck dick back in high school?” Greg asks, even though he already fully knows that Nick didn’t explore that part of himself until college. Greg, on the other hand, was with boys before he ever got near a girl. 

Nick hooks his fingers in the waistband and urges Greg to lift his hips enough for him to slide the boxers right off. Nick tosses the underwear behind him and turns his attention back to Greg, now completely naked, flushed and a little desperate.

“I think I’ve made up for not sucking dick in high school,” Nick says thoughtfully, resuming his position on the floor and placing his hands on Greg’s thighs.

“You’re not sucking anything right now,” Greg says, in frustration. He tries to shift but Nick holds him firmly in place, strong hands holding him down by the hips. He’s not sure how he got here, so hard that he’s starting to bead precome at the tip and his mind is going fuzzy when Nick has barely even touched him yet. Maybe coming home without changing was a good idea, if this is how Nick is going to work off the stresses of his day.

“You’re getting a bit wet,” Nick says, his breath hot over Greg’s bare skin. “Think I could get you that worked up that you start to leak through little cheerleader panties?” The image makes Greg groan and press his forearm over his eyes. He can’t look at Nick anymore; the wicked twist to Nick’s mouth is going to make him lose his mind.

“Get me the fucking panties and I swear I’ll wear them,” Greg gasps. “Now, please, please touch me.” Greg doesn’t see the glint in Nick’s eye as he leans over to lick a slow, dragging stripe up his cock but it’s enough to make him moan and grab for Nick’s head. Most of the time, Nick keeps his hair too short for Greg to wind his fingers in it, but Greg tries anyway. 

“Better?” Nick asks, in a purr.

“More,” Greg begs breathlessly. “More.” And finally - finally - Nick bends his head to suck Greg into his mouth. Greg lets out a desperate little noise as Nick suck on the tip, giving him the slightest bit of relief and yet still fucking teasing.

“Nicky,” Greg whimpers. The nickname never comes out at work, which makes it all the more jarring when their coworkers all call Nick by that name. Greg saves it almost exclusively for when they’re like this, the word both sweet and desperate on his tongue. “Nicky, Nicky, Nicky…” Nick slides his mouth further down the shaft and sucks so that Greg keens. 

“Open your eyes, baby,” Nick whispers and Greg realises that he’d clenched them shut when Nick took him all into his mouth. “Look at me, Greg. Look.”

But it’s hard. Greg wants to let his head fall back and shut his eyes as Nick does filthy things to him. It’s not like he can tell anyone but despite his late start to it, Nick is so, so good at giving head. Especially when it’s like this, after shift, and he has all the time in the world to take Greg apart. He’ll tease with soft licks and kisses to the head, the base, his balls and then, when Greg is least expecting it, swallow him deep. He’s loosened his grip on Greg just enough to allow Greg to fuck his mouth, just a little bit. Greg doesn’t have the wits about him to do more than judder his hips, desperately chasing the wet heat of Nick’s mouth.

But then suddenly Nick pulls back and Greg whimpers when he’s left cold and alone. He searches for Nick, only to find his partner pulling himself up.

“Nicky?” Greg says weakly, pulling himself up onto his elbows. But Nick is only reaching for the hem of his t-shirt and tugging it over his head. Not that helps him any - Nick is gorgeous, all tanned muscle and smooth skin. He’d be jealous if this beautiful man didn’t love him and come to his bed every night.

“Move back, baby,” Nick instructs so Greg moves himself along the bed. Luckily, this means he can drop his head onto his pillow and watch Nick tug down his sweats and underwear. When he’s finally naked, he climbs up Greg’s body, kissing Greg’s thighs, hips and ribs until he’s straddling him.

“What are you doing?” Greg asks curiously, as Nick leans over him and starts rifling through the bedside drawers. Nick doesn’t answer, instead waving the tube of lube at him triumphantly. 

“I’m not fucking you,” Nick says bluntly, catching Greg’s hopeful look. “Maybe later. You’re too tired.”

“I see. Quick, filthy orgasms to get me to sleep,” Greg grumbles. He’s so horny that he wants Nick inside of him but Nick is probably right. Later, after they’ve slept Nick can spread him open with his tongue and then fuck him long and deep. But right now, Nick is pooling lube into his palm and then grasping both of their cocks together in a gloriously slippery handful. 

“Basically,” Nick says cheekily. “Don’t worry, G. Slow, even filthier orgasms later.”

Nick moves himself so Greg can feel every long, hard inch along his body, which also gives him a better angle for thrusting. Greg’s moan is swallowed by Nick’s mouth so he wraps his arms around Nick and hangs on tight. This is clearly going to be wet and messy; there’s a drop of lube trickling down his abdomen and he’s vaguely aware of the grunting noises escaping his mouth every time their cocks rub together. He grabs hold of Nick’s ass with one hand and digs his fingers in. This isn’t the fucking he wanted, but damn, it’s getting the job done.

“Hey,” Greg pants, struck by an idea. “How about the whole get up instead of just the panties?” He can see the idea take hold in Nick’s mind, penetrating the fog of lust that currently has the Texan at mercy. He licks the curve of Nick’s ear, a motion that’s mostly to hide his smirk. He can be a tease too.

“See, I think you could have me on all fours,” Greg murmurs. “You could just pull the skirt right up, pull down my panties and thrust right in.” Nick makes a strangled noise and pulls Greg into a possessive, intense kiss that Greg feels down to his toes. If he weren’t already chasing his orgasm, that kiss would definitely do it.

“God, I love you,” Nick pants, pulling back to stare into Greg’s eyes. “Love you.” Greg nods and bites on Nick’s bottom lip. He can tell that Nick is getting close too; his thrusts are getting more erratic, sloppier and his left hand is wound in Greg’s hair, ever so gently tugging. Nick’s holding on by the skin of his teeth, so Greg grips the flesh of Nick’s buttocks more firmly and wraps his right arm across Nick’s back.

“Love you, Nicky,” he pants, and Christ, they’re making a sweaty, slippery mess of the covers. But it’s too good and when Nick bites down to smother his cries against Greg’s shoulder, Greg can’t help but follow. For a moment, there’s nothing but a mangled cry of Nick’s name and Nick’s juddering hips against his own. It’s enough to make him forget the sweaty sheets sticking to Greg’s back, the wetness between them, and the whole entire fucked up day.

Greg opens his eyes. He’s not sure when he shut them but it might have been as he came. He’s not sure why that orgasm felt so good but he suspects that it was the tension and emotion of the day twisting him into a tight coil that was just begging to be released. And Nick had done that perfectly. He smiles softly into Nick’s dark hair.

“What are you smirking about?” Nick says, still sounding a little breathless. Furious, energetic fucking is getting a little harder as they get older - especially for Nick, who has four years on him - but no one could say that their sex life isn’t fucking hot. 

“Nothing,” Greg says, nuzzling into Nick a little more. He knows he doesn’t have long before he falls asleep, but he wants to relish in the afterglow, just a little bit longer. “Just that you always know what I need.” Nick chuckles and presses a kiss against Greg’s forehead before attempting to peel himself off. There’s more than a few wet, squelching sounds as he does so.

“That is disgusting,” Greg comments, wrinkling his nose as he looks at the come-sweat-lube pool on his abdomen. Luckily, Nick isn’t much better but he’s already up so Greg gets to lie there as Nick goes to the bathroom to get a cloth. Not that Greg can move anyway - the post-orgasm haze has settled over him and his exhaustion has returned full force. He only just keeps his eyes open for Nick to return and carefully wipe him clean. 

“Into bed, honey,” Nick murmurs, and he has to help Greg shift so that he can slide under the sheets. When Greg is settled, Nick strokes a hand over his hair.

“Go to sleep, baby. I’ll join you in a minute,” he murmurs. Greg can only make a mumbled response, trying to stay awake until Nick is pressed into him, from chest to toes. But it doesn’t work and by the time Nick collects the strewn clothes from the floor, Greg is already asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Unsure about the title but meh. 
> 
> I am working on editing and updating Courting, I promise! But 10.16 is one of my favourite episodes and after I last saw it, I couldn't help myself.


End file.
